


Transfluminia

by fireflysglow_archivist



Category: Firefly
Genre: Implied Relationships, No River Tam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-23
Updated: 2004-08-23
Packaged: 2019-04-29 06:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14466645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireflysglow_archivist/pseuds/fireflysglow_archivist
Summary: What happens to Simon after River accepts asylum? There may or may not be a sequel to this.





	Transfluminia

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Firefly’s Glow](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Firefly%27s_Glow), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Firefly's Glow collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/fireflysglow/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** DISCLAIMER: Firefly and all recognizable elements thereof belong to Joss Weldon and other individuals and entities. Their use in this fanfic is not for material gain as an exercise in composition, accordingly, per counsel's opinion, it falls either under the parody exception or the fair use doctrine, or both. NOTES: This follows upon Arrowheads, and is less a story than a series of vignettes. The title means, for those who don't know Latin, something like Land Beyond the River. This is again, basically Gen, with some bits that could be interpreted as pre-Slash if your mind works that way. Feedback, please, how else am I to improve as a writer?

  
Author's notes: DISCLAIMER: Firefly and all recognizable elements thereof belong to Joss Weldon and other individuals and entities. Their use in this fanfic is not for material gain as an exercise in composition, accordingly, per counsel's opinion, it falls either under the parody exception or the fair use doctrine, or both. NOTES: This follows upon Arrowheads, and is less a story than a series of vignettes. The title means, for those who don't know Latin, something like Land Beyond the River. This is again, basically Gen, with some bits that could be interpreted as pre-Slash if your mind works that way. Feedback, please, how else am I to improve as a writer?   


* * *

Transfluminia

## Transfluminia

"I don't know, Cap'n," said Jayne, "He's just been acting odd." 

"He's scarcely spoken to anyone since. . . "said Zoe. 

". . . since River left," finished Wash. 

Kaylee didn't say anything; her woebegone expression was more than enough. Book patted her on the shoulder and cleared his throat. 

"If you have something to say, Preacher, say it," said Mal. 

"I think you have to look at things from his perspective," said the older man, "Simon spent all his life from childhood, through adolescence, and into young adulthood wanting only one thing--to be a doctor. Then, he threw all that away for one thing--to rescue and then to take care of his sister. Now both things have been taken away from him: his sister and his medical career. His life is without purpose. There are those here who know what that is like," he added, looking pointedly at Mal and Zoe. 

"What that kid's gone through is nothing like what we went through!" Mal not-quite-shouted. 

"Not in degree," said Zoe thoughtfully, "but perhaps in kind. And the cure will have to be the same as it was for us--he needs to find a new purpose. That's what Serenity has been for us." 

"He's our doctor; we agreed to that after Joppa. That's a purpose." 

"What happened on Joppa, Captain?" asked Kaylee, "He went off somewhere in the spare shuttle, then came back and was shut up with you for a while, then he moved from the passenger berths to a crew bunk." 

"He withdrew some money from a bank where his family sent some funds through the Arrowheads; he wanted to give me all of it, to pay for his and River's back fare. I told him it was far too much, and gave most of it back to him; I then took out what I reckoned as the cost of his medical services so far. I then gave him a cut." 

"WHAT?" exclaimed Wash, Zoe, Jayne, and Kaylee. 

"Here are the figures," said Mal, placing a sheet of paper on the table, "I know that it means that everyone else will get a little less, but if anyone's not agreeable to the adjustments--anyone not thinking that the Doc's earned at least that much--I'll take the rest out of my share." 

Everyone looked at one another. One by one they signed next to each name, then Book added his signature as witness. 

"Also, we got an agreement with the Red Cross people. They keep us in medical supplies, and Simon gives a free clinic whenever we spend time on a world without decent medical facilities. We figured that this would give him an excuse for contact with them so he can get progress reports on River, and will build us goodwill in case we need to hide out somewhere." 

"I think," said Book, "that this will go a long way towards giving him a sense of purpose. Ship's doctor here is hardly a full-time job, but between that and some charity work--it will help. 

* * *

Simon let his hair and beard grow; in a surprisingly short time he was sporting a ponytail and a full beard. He also started lifting weights with Jayne and the Shepherd. He now looked nothing like his wanted posters. 

Periodically, Serenity would either rendezvous with a Red Cross or Golden Arrowheads ship out in the Black, or would land on a moon where one or both of the Twin Orders had an enclave; there they would pick up medical supplies, which Simon would use wherever needed, ostentatiously displaying the origins of his materials. 

Whenever they stopped on a more sophisticated world, he would go to one of the banks and cash in one of the bearer cards his parents had sent; usually most of it would go to medical equipment for which the ship's budget wouldn't extend; Mal would grumble a bit about turning Serenity into a hospital ship, but not seriously. 

Still, he remained closed off to the rest of the crew; if Mal occasionally heard muffled sobs coming from a certain bunk, he didn't let on, nor to the rough voice offering words of comfort. 

* * *

"Kaylee," said a voice from above. 

The perky engineer looked up to see a pair of well-polished boot toes. Only one person on the ship polished his boots to such a high gloss. 

"Hi, yourself, doc," she replied. 

"Could you do something for me?" 

"What?" 

"Teach me about the engines." 

"Sure, but why?" 

"Well, it struck me that everyone should have a backup. You and Zoe could pilot in a pinch, Zoe has had medic training, both Zoe and the Captain can back up Jayne---everyone seems to have a secondary specialty except me. Medicine and engineering are both about keeping systems going, so I figured that I should at least try to learn how to help you if you needed it, or could even step in if you were sick or hurt or. . . ." 

"I get it, Simon; and it's not a bad idea. Go ask Wash to lend you a jumpsuit--you're nearest his size, and we don't want to get engine dirt all over your nice duds." 

* * *

Sheffield had been a byword for steel even on Earth-that-Was, and the planet by that name had kept up the tradition. Simon vanished for most of the day they were there taking on cargo in Pittsburgh, the capital; nobody knew why, as the Twin Orders did not have a significant presence on that world. He returned with some crates, which he stored in his bunk. 

Shortly after they took off, he asked both Jayne and the Captain into his bunk, saying that he had something to show them. 

The first thing the two visitors noticed was a curtain across one wall. The young doctor pulled on a string, drawing the cloth back. There were four swords mounted on the wall--a rapier, a saber, a scimitar, and an elegant sword-cane with a silver handle shaped like a caduceus, with garnets set in the snakes' eyes--each accompanied with a corresponding wooden practice blade; Mal remembered hearing or reading somewhere that the technical word was 'waster'. 

"I took fencing in school and college; I was pretty good. I'd like to get back into practice, if Jayne would help me assemble a set of pells in the cargo bay. Then I can be of some use in the field." 

"But doc," said Mal, "you already have a job here." 

"Ship's doctor is hardly a full-time job, Captain. I'd like to be able to do field work without you two having to worry about protecting me." 

"Well, if you want to keep in shape by practicing with these things, I won't stop you." 

"And going out on jobs?" 

"We'll see," replied Mal, not quite using the tone that meant 'Never in a million years.' 

Mal had reason to rethink his initial reaction some weeks later. He and Inara were on the catwalk, observing the activities in the cargo bay. Jayne and Book were lifting weights in one corner; Wash, Zoe, and Kaylee were playing ringball in the center; Simon was working out with the pells in the other. 

Mal had wondered what 'pells' were, but hadn't wanted to admit ignorance. He had guessed they were some sort of training device, but he hadn't imagined anything like the contraption Jayne and Kaylee had assembled from Simon's diagram. 

A rope suspended from below one of the catwalks ran through a three foot length of two-by-four via a hole large enough for it to turn freely. Below the board, at the end of the rope, hung a truck tire. At each end of the board hung a few links of chain, each ending in a length of padded dowel. As Simon slashed and stabbed, the contraption spun and swung in unpredictable ways, and Simon had to duck and dodge to keep from getting hit. He had discarded his shirt, and sweat glistened on the pale skin encasing an unexpectedly well-muscled torso. 

"He's good," said Inara. 

"Who?" 

"Simon. River was a dancer and a gymnast; some of the abilities must have been genetic. He obviously had good fencing teachers on Osiris." 

"How do you know?" 

"Every Companion," said Inara with a touch of asperity, "is taught how to defend herself, because every Companion will need to at least once in her career. Let's see how well the doctor does against a live opponent. I'll be right back." 

She vanished, reappearing in a few minutes, having replaced her silk caftan with a black leather catsuit. She had tucked her hair neatly into a black snood; and had strapped a sword across her back---only a waster, Mal noticed with some relief, as bloodshed wasn't supposed to be a part of recreation. She quickly and quietly swarmed about two-thirds of the way down the ladder, then leapt, coming up behind Simon in a controlled tumble while drawing her weapon. 

"Defend yourself!" she cried, rolling to her feet and swinging at him at the same time. 

Simon smoothly spun out of his exercise, bringing his own blade up into a guard position, then flowing to a parry to Inara's slashing attack. He counterattacked with a quick thrust of his rapier; she parried. They exchanged blows for a while until she knocked his sword from his hand; he ducked and dodged a bit until he could get to his saber, when he renewed his attack. Soon he disarmed her; she dove for his discarded rapier, bringing it up in a totally unorthodox grip which nevertheless turned his slash. The weightlifters and ball players had abandoned their activities to watch. Kaylee looked simultaneously horrified and fascinated; Wash looked confused; Zoe and Jayne looked both surprised and impressed; Book was impassive as usual. 

Inara soon disarmed Simon again, and again he went for one of his other blades, bringing his scimitar around in curving slashes; Inara parried them, but was soon forced again to drop her weapon. She went into one of her rolling dives towards her original sword, but as she reached for it, Simon tapped her on the wrist with his own blade, which he then touched to her breast. 

"Kill," he said. 

"I yield," she replied. 

The doctor helped her up. 

"Doc. . . 'Nara," said Jayne, "where in the gorram 'verse did you two learn to fight like that?" 

"As I explained to the Captain," replied Inara, gratefully accepting a towel from Zoe, "Companions are trained in many modes of self-defense. This is partly to keep us fit and flexible, and partly because each of us will need them at some time or other." 

"And I had the best fencing teachers since I was able to lift a blade," added Simon, "Dueling is a common practice in certain circles of the Highborn. We Tams didn't encourage it, but Father thought that I should be able to defend myself if challenged. And that if I attained a formidable enough reputation in the salle, I wouldn't be challenged very often." 

When some of the others looked confused, he added, "The one challenged, traditionally, has the choice of weapons." 

Mal and Inara exchanged a look; both, of course, were thinking about Persephone. 

"I'm afraid that I know little about unarmed combat," confessed Simon, looking at Jayne, "but I'd be happy to learn. Just be careful of the hands." 

* * *

"Well," said Mal, "our little doctor is proving useful." 

"We'd have been humped without that pig-sticker of his," agreed Jayne, "We couldn't use our guns because of the chemicals in that warehouse. And you didn't want him along in the first place." 

"With Zoe's ankle not healed, she couldn't come; how many times had she run across that catwalk before she slipped that one time? Wash didn't want to leave her, Kaylee is out of the question, and it was really a bit more than a two man job," the Captain conceded, "We might have managed with the two of us if things hadn't gone wrong." 

"Except they did." 

"You've been very friendly with the doc since his sister left," said the Captain, changing the subject. 

"Well, Cap'n, he and I have more in common than I thought." 

Mal looked at the big mercenary, his eyebrows arching quizzically; Jayne blushed, looked down and scuffed his foot on the floor. 

"I know folks think I ain't too bright," he continued slowly,"and I can't say I much blame them." 

Mal made an encouraging noise, and Jayne continued, 

"I don't talk too good, and I'm a bit slow sometimes, particularly when it has to do with people. I say the wrong things and end up hurting people's feelings without meaning to; I'm sorry, but I don't know how to make it right. And sometimes, when I think people are laughing at me, or looking down on me, I lash out. But," he added looking up, "I do think about things, and I do generally figure things out, even if it takes a while." 

He paused, screwing up his face in an effort to find the right words. 

"The doc, I reckon, has felt like he was playing a game but he didn't know all the rules, nobody would explain them to him, and as soon as he thought he had them figured out, they changed on him. I know how that feels; I feel like that near anytime I'm involved in something that doesn't involve guns or fightin' or such. No wonder he used to act like a pompous prig all the time; he was fightin' with the only weapon he had--his mouth. And he was so broken up after his sister left that it would have been plumb cruel not to be nice to him. Hurtin' someone a-purpose who don't deserve it, that's Reavers' work." 

"Well, I'm glad you two have come to an understanding," said Mal dryly, "I was wondering which would happen first--you'd shoot him, or he'd poison you." 

* * *

"Wash, would you come in here, please? Zoe and I have some news for you; you'd better sit down first, though," said the grinning doctor. 

"Well, Simon--should I tell him, or will you?" asked Zoe. 

"Either of us." 

"You tell the first part." 

"Very well," said Simon, "Wash, you're going to be a father." 

"And, honey, Simon says that it is going to be twins." 

"At least," said Simon, "perhaps more." 

"Wash, honey? You OK?" asked Zoe, as his eyes rolled back in his head and he slowly, almost gracefully, slid to the floor. 

"Zoe, could you hand me the smelling salts?" asked Simon, looking down at Wash's supine form, "The drawer under your left hand. The blue bottle." 

(finis( 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Title:   **Transfluminia**   
Author:   **BAW**   
Details:   **Standalone**  |  **PG**  |  **gen**  |  **13k**  |  **08/23/04**   
Characters:  Simon \- The rest of the crew make appearances, except of course River.   
Pairings:  None explicit; a couple implied.   
Summary:  What happens to Simon after River accepts asylum?   
There may or may not be a sequel to this.   
Notes:  DISCLAIMER: Firefly and all recognizable elements thereof belong to Joss Weldon and other individuals and entities. Their use in this fanfic is not for material gain as an exercise in composition; accordingly, per counsel's opinion, it falls either under the parody exception or the fair use doctrine, or both.   
NOTES: This follows upon Arrowheads, and is less a story than a series of vignettes. The title means, for those who don't know Latin, something like Land Beyond the River. This is again, basically Gen, with some bits that could be interpreted as pre-Slash if your mind works that way.   
Feedback, please; how else am I to improve as a writer?   
  
Sequel to:  Arrowheads   
  



End file.
